


A Guard Against Nightmares

by PyroKlepto



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Gareth has issues denying that he has a crush on his adorable bunny king, M/M, Nightmares, sleepy!Richard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5423999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyroKlepto/pseuds/PyroKlepto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard has had trouble with bad dreams since he was a child... but at least he doesn't have to fight them alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Guard Against Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> I think the summary says it all. Let me know if you enjoyed it, or just leave general feedback if you like!

Gareth awoke one night to feel something warm and breathing pressed against his back. Though he was only but ten winters old, he had never been one to fear. Or, rather, let his fear keep him from acting.

With a battle yell, he twisted around in bed and tackled whoever had invaded his space, rolling right off the edge and onto the floor.

His ‘attacker’ yelped and then started shaking with poorly-held-back sobs. _Oh, Hells_. Gareth scrambled away, squinting in the darkness. Sure enough, there was the king - though he was not much older than Gareth himself - curled up on the floor in a foetal position and crying.

“What are ya doing?” Gareth asked, baffled. “Why were you in my bed?”

Richard sniffled, sitting up and hugging his knees to his chest. “I had a bad dream, Gareth.” He avoided his guard’s gaze, staring at the floor.

“Well, it’s not _real_ ,” Gareth pointed out. “Go back to bed.” 

“I’m scared.” Richard pouted, his round cheeks tearstained. “And it _felt_ real.”

Gareth muttered a few choice words under his breath. He wasn’t accustomed to this. Nightmares were the problem of nursemaids, not guards - how annoying that during his first month of being a guard, the only threat he had faced was this infernal nightmare - but since he was the only one here, either he solved the problem or didn’t get any more sleep. 

He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Oh, alright. If I let you sleep in my bed will you calm down?”

“Yes,” Richard piped, tilting his head and staring up at Gareth. 

“Good then.” Gareth climbed back into his bed, the bunk on the bottom. (He didn’t know why he was the one to sleep on the bottom bunk. Richard didn’t usually like heights, even little ones.) He moved as closely toward the wall as he could, leaving ample room for Richard, who climbed in after him and wriggled under the blankets. After a few minutes of fidgeting, he _finally_ went still.

Gareth lie awake, having a difficult time sleeping with someone so close. It felt awkward and he hated it. It was like when his pet dog had gained the habit of sleeping under his covers at the foot of his bed - he didn’t want to share the blankets with another living creature. 

Despite his mild irritation, Gareth soon fell asleep to the faint snoring of his young king.

~*~

Gareth awoke in the middle of the night with a long yawn. He wasn’t entirely sure what had roused him - until he rolled over.

The pale moonlight shone right upon the bed - as did the small lantern kept in the room at all times, since the teenage king was afraid of the dark. And behold, in the dim light, Gareth could see familiar chestnut curls falling across a familiar face that happened to be mere inches from Gareth’s.

 _Oh, Hells._ Not again. Why did this happen at such random times? It wasn’t even consistent, it just happened. Truth be told, he had hoped that the long spanse of time without this particular happenstance had meant that it had stopped. 

Gareth realised he was staring intently at Richard’s face and mentally shook himself. “Oi.” 

There was no response, of course. So Gareth reached up and poked Richard’s cheek. “Your majesty.”

Richard mumbled something unintelligble and only curled up further under the blankets, throwing his arms around Gareth, who froze for several seconds, trapped in the warm embrace of long arms and slightly pointy elbows.

After a few moments of being completely and utterly stunned, Gareth got a grip and untangled himself from Richard’s hold. “Oi, sire. Wake up, will ya?” He shook Richard’s shoulder, and the other boy finally awoke, sitting up and looking blearily around. 

“Gare?” he asked drowsily, blinking at Gareth from behind a few stray locks of hair. Even in the faint light, his eyes were very clearly a startling blue. 

“What is it?” Gareth grumbled, escaping from his thoughts. “Why are you in my bed? Again? You’re getting just a mite old for this, my king.” 

“I had a bad dream,” Richard said, his lower lip sticking out in a pout similar to the ones he used to give people as a child. “There was a dragon, Gare. It had snaggly teeth and red scales and a really long tail.” He tried to move a bit closer to Gareth so he could put his head on his shoulder, but Gareth edged away. 

“There aren’t any dragons around here,” Gareth said. “Look, you’ve your own bed, and you’ll be having your own room soon. It’s about time you stopped climbing in my bed every time you’ve had a nightmare.”

“But you’re my guard, Gare,” Richard said, still sounding a bit drowsy. “You protect me; you chase the bad dreams away and all. You’re like a nightmare fighter.”

Gareth started to say that he was in no way meant to guard against bad dreams, but stopped himself. “Sleep. And keep to yourself, ya hear? If you thrash around and hit me in me face again, I’m throwing you out onto the floor.”

“I’ll be good,” Richard said earnestly, crossing his heart with one finger. 

Gareth turned over and faced the wall, purposefully ignoring Richard. He didn’t want to get caught staring again. He could feel the king settle down under the blankets again with a yawn - he made a quiet little squeaking sound when he yawned, like some infernal kitten. Then, after a few minutes, he could sense Richard’s breathing grow deep and even and knew that, as always, the young king had fallen asleep within a few minutes.

Gareth mentally cursed the fact that he had ever vowed to serve Richard faithfully. If he had known as a ten year old lad that it would consist not only of protecting him from other boys who liked to bully him but also of ‘protecting’ him from nightmares, he wasn’t sure he would have accepted the duty.

Perhaps so, Gareth thought sleepily as he drifted off. But now that it was all said and done, he realised he would never break his vows - not only because a promise is a promise, but also because he didn’t really wish to.

~*~

It had been a very long day.

This Madalena woman had to be one of the most exasperating members of the female species Gareth had ever had the dubious pleasure of knowing. The idea that Richard had apparently fallen in love with _her_ of all people was astounding. 

Astounding. That was the word, of course. He was astounded, maybe a bit baffled. Nothing else. 

Gareth all but collapsed into bed with a tired groan, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. He drifted off almost immediately afterward, a deep sleep taking hold of him.

He awoke sometime in the middle of the night, wrapped snugly in someone’s embrace. His immediate instinct was to reach for the dagger he kept beside the bed and fight off whoever it was.

But after so many years, he knew how to recognise this invader. A soft beard gently brushed against his neck, and warm breath tickled his skin. A hand with long, delicate fingers attached to an equally delicate wrist pressed against Gareth’s chest, directly over his heart. 

_Oh, Hells. No._

“Sire…” Gareth said, but his voice didn’t go much higher than a whisper. His heartbeat thundered in his head. The fool of a man was simply too damn _close_. He smelled like expensive clothing, and his apple-scented soaps, and herbs, and cinnamon, and it was bloody overwhelming.

Gareth cleared his throat, about to attempt to speak a bit louder. The resonance his action caused however was enough to rouse Richard, who somehow managed to move _even closer_ , nuzzling his face against Gareth’s neck and making a humming sound that sent a faint vibration down Gareth’s spine.

Gareth made a slightly choked noise in the back of his throat as he struggled to find words. “My king, wake up and _move_.” He mustered his strength and disentangled himself from Richard’s arms. 

Richard murmured something incoherently and rolled over onto his back, blinking and gazing up at Gareth with striking blue eyes from underneath impossibly long lashes. “Gare-bear…” 

“Don’t call me that,” Gareth grumbled. “What, pray tell, are you doing?” He didn’t know why he asked - he knew what the answer was going to be.

“I had a bad dream,” Richard said forlornly, thin lips forming a very familiar pout as he sat up. “It was awful, Gare, positively awful.” Now his lips trembled a bit.

Gareth started to make a mildly irritated comment, but Richard’s next words stopped him short: “You _died_ , Gare-bear. You were killed dead by a sword and it was awful, simply awful!” His whole body started to tremble now and he stared at Gareth with tear-filled eyes.

 _Oh, for…_ Gareth sighed. “Well, I’m quite far from dead, sire.” 

Richard’s brow furrowed in a deep frown, blinking back tears. He reached out to very gently place his hand against Gareth’s face, long fingers stroking down his cheek. “Yes. Not dead.” 

Another tremor down Gareth’s spine. He resisted the urge to pull away from the warmth of Richard’s hand, not wanting to frighten the poor dumb sod any more than he already was. “Exactly. Now will you calm down a bit?”

“I think I can,” Richard said tentatively, finally lowering his hand and gazing at Gareth. There were several long seconds of silence, and Gareth began to feel uncomfortable under Richard’s stare - which surely wasn’t one of soft adoration. Gareth was reading the emotions wrong, as always, that was it.

“Good,” Gareth said, finally breaking the stare by turning his head and glancing at the window. “Then you should go get some sleep.”

“Gare-be--” Richard stopped himself. “ _Gareth_ … can I stay here, just for tonight?”

“You’ve your own room,” Gareth responded, giving Richard a sideways look. 

“Yes, but I’m afraid I’ll have the Dream again, and my room is lonely, and you’re so comfy,” Richard replied, a hopeful plea in his blue eyes and his hands clasped. 

_No. No. No,_ Gareth’s mind said.

“Fine,” Gareth’s voice said, laced with faint reluctance. “But only for tonight, you hear?” 

“Yes, Gare-bear, only for tonight,” Richard agreed, nodding vehemently. He snuggled down under the blankets again. 

Gareth bit back a sigh, praying that the night would pass quickly. He carefully lay back down as far from Richard as he could. But somehow, the king managed to move up closer. He didn’t get as close as before - in fact, he wasn’t even touching Gareth. But Gareth could feel the warmth radiating off of him, a few inches away. 

This was more difficult than Gareth had ever thought it would be. All of it had been - every single step of this journey he had been volunteered as a lad. But for some unfathomable reason, he knew he wouldn’t ever trade it for the world. 

After all, he was a guard now - and if that meant guarding his king from nightmares like this, then so be it. 

He had long ago vowed ‘faithfully’, and ‘faithfully’ it would be, no matter what, forever and eternity.


End file.
